


By the Sword

by Spaceman_Spiff



Category: Final Fantasy VII
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-26
Updated: 2016-06-26
Packaged: 2018-07-18 07:13:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7304644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spaceman_Spiff/pseuds/Spaceman_Spiff
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is simply my interpretation of how the final duel between Cloud and Sephiroth went down.</p>
            </blockquote>





	By the Sword

They stood in the dark space, their eyes split by the blades of their swords held out before them, their eyes aglow with the mako surging in their blood. All around them, tendrils of the lifestream flowed like shimmering serpents moving through invisible slits in the darkness, casting shades of ghostly green upon their faces, the shadows of their features dancing on their cheeks. Were it not for the calm, balanced breaths that each warrior took, they would have appeared to be statues, erected as some sacrificial monument to this historical moment in time. Revolutions such as these come with a heavy price, a lesson these men knew all too well.

Cloud had imagined this moment since he first heard of Sephiroth’s return, felt it when he realized his connection with him, becoming obsessed with the idea that they were standing on opposite ends of the same balance. Despite defeating Sephiroth’s numerous transformations, he somehow knew that it would come to this. Honor is the currency of a warrior on the battlefield. To slay your rival in a duel is an offering for their souls to rest in peace. This is why they were here. This was always the way that it had to end.

“So this is it,” Sephiroth spoke eerily calm across the empty space, his sword gleaming like a fang from the viper’s maw. “Should you fail then this world dies with you.”

“Then I will not fail,” Cloud responded with confidence, a grin creeping into his cheek as his eyes narrowed.

In a brilliant flash of green, Cloud burst forth with unimaginable speed, as though the lifestream was feeding him with incredible energy. His body moved without thought, as his arm reared back before pulling the massive buster sword down towards his opponent’s head. For a split second, Cloud thought Sephiroth had simply conceded, that he was going to let it end without a fight. But then it came, Sephiroth’s long samurai sword, Masamune, was lifted with masterful reflexes to block the blow. The shockwave from the impact caused the lifestream to bend in a hemispherical bubble around them.

As if in suspended animation, Cloud hung there, the two swords hissing at each other as their counteracting forces superheated the microlayer between them. An intense light formed at the point of contact, lighting up Sephiroth’s wicked smile as he bent into a slight crouch. He then leapt as he swung his rival’s sword away, sending Cloud even higher into the air until they both passed through the gossamer web of the lifestream hanging delicately above them.

With each impact of steel against steel the thin green strands pulsed and bowed in their wake, swords striking like lightening in a furious storm. Every powerful swing of Sephiroth’s sword rippled against the lifestream, and Cloud could feel the vibrations coursing through every fiber of muscle in his body. He knew that he could not remain on the defensive for long. He recalled his last duel with Sephiroth at the reactor in Nibelheim, how easily he was defeated even after delivering a mortal wound with his back turned. He had only survived the encounter by some rush of emotion and adrenaline, catching Sephiroth by surprise. He would not be given such an opportunity for surprises this time.

Sephiroth brought his sword down like a hammer, slicing ribbons of lifestream that reconnected as the blade passed through. Cloud turned his sword so that it struck the broadside of the blade, using both of his hands to push back against the incredible force. The sizzle of hot metal was pungent as sparks flew out in every direction. They both descended through the cloud of green until they hit the floor, Cloud falling to one knee as Sephiroth descended softly, his long gray hair fluttering like a cape behind him. Once both feet had planted, he pointed the long, curved blade menacingly at his rival.

“You have vastly improved since these swords last met,” he spoke reverently, his smile never waning. “But it is not enough, I’m afraid. Do you even know your weapon? You still carry it as though it is a stranger to you.”

“I know it well enough,” Cloud replied with a smirk as he stood up and assumed his battle stance. “I know that it was given to me by a man that once called you a friend, and it is in his honor that I will use it to stop you.”

“It is sad how little you know of it…what the man you speak of had to do to acquire that blade,” Sephiroth shook his head as he lowered his guard for a moment. “They carry memories of every battle, you know. Every nick and scratch, every speck of wear, tear, and rust. Only by understanding this will you ever honor those that held that sword before you.”

“Just shut up and fight me, Sephiroth!” Cloud yelled as he lunged at his unguarded opponent.

In the brief moment it took his to close the space between, Cloud saw Sephiroth’s green eyes ignite, saw his smile dissolve into a frown. There was a flash of white hot light as Sephiroth was quick to swing his blade to meet his rival, sending Cloud stumbling back from the powerful strike. Sephiroth was immediately upon him, pushing Cloud back with every slash of the long blade. Cloud was only just able to keep up with both arms moving the buster sword to block the onslaught, even though Sephiroth was only using one hand.

There was perilous feeling in Cloud’s stomach, as he soon realized he was outmatched. Sephiroth’s sword moved sinuously, as though it was an extension of his arm, as though it weighed nothing at all. The buster sword was beginning to feel heavy in his arms as he parried each attack, feeling the weight of the steel and the burden of knowing what it meant to suffer defeat. The lifestream dangled overhead as though it were a casual spectator, offering only its light to the two warriors below.

“I will not die by that sword if you do not carry it with honor!” Sephiroth barked as he reeled back and delivered a powerful two-handed blow, sending another shockwave through the darkness, pushing the lifestream even farther away. Cloud was barely able to hold his sword against the blow, the force of it lifting him off the ground and sending him skidding on his back several feet away.

When he finally came to a stop, Cloud just stared up at the weaving patterns of green above, like threads sewn beneath the skin of the world, holding it together. Then a shadowed figure lunged into his view, hovering just below the lifestream, holding its gleaming blade downward as it dropped from above to deliver the fatal blow. Cloud managed to find a burst of energy in time to roll away, the masamune narrowly missing his heart. Cloud stood quickly, and furiously swung his blade towards Sephiroth, hitting nothing but air. His rival had disappeared.

“You are a fool!”

Cloud felt the blade cut cleanly through the back of his SOLDIER uniform, felt the hot blood pouring from the wound that ran from his right shoulder to his left hip. He lurched forward and fell to a knee, the pain radiating throughout his body, his sword dropping to the ground at his side. He was shaking so badly his hand was barely able to grip the hilt. He clenched his teeth, squeezing his eyes tightly as he prepared himself for the lethal strike that he knew was coming. He had lost.

“Get…up,” Sephiroth demanded, staring intently at Cloud’s bloodied back. He didn’t advance towards his rival, but he quickly became furious. “Get _up_!!”

Cloud mustered what strength he had left to stand, feeling his knees shake as he did, the buster sword dragging across the ground as he tried to lift it. He turned slowly, a grimace with every bolt of pain that ran up his spine. Neither of them smiled when their eyes met once again.

“Is this how you intend to save the world?” Sephiroth asked with disgust. “You have come this far, and you would throw it all away so easily? Perhaps I misjudged you. Does the world mean so little to you?”

“I…” Cloud began before biting back a surge of pain rushing through him. “I am not strong enough to defeat you.”

“Strength has little to do with it,” Sephiroth huffed. “You are as stubborn as the one who came before you. But at least he had the honor to die fighting. You would cower on your knees awaiting death. There is no honor in that.”

“Then let’s end this,” Cloud said as he drew every last bit of strength he could dig up, grabbing his sword tightly and lashing out with brutal force. The motion of the blade caused eddies in the lifestream to form as it split the air towards Sephiroth’s neck. In a flurry of blade and feet, Sephiroth parried the attack so forcefully that the buster sword fell from Cloud’s weakened hands. Before the sword hit the ground, Sephiroth had thrust the masamune through Cloud’s stomach, the glistening tip of the blade protruding from his back.

The lifestream pulsed with light as the two men stood there, Cloud’s face stuck in an expression of desperate shock, blood dripping from his mouth, Sephiroth glaring at his rival as he remained skewered upon the blade. Cloud felt his feet leave the ground as Sephiroth lifted him up into the air, and he swallowed back the urge to cry out from the pain.

“At least now you can rest in peace knowing that you gave it everything you had,” Sephiroth said before hurling Cloud off of his sword.

As he descended through the darkness, feeling the life seeping out of his wounds, Cloud noticed the blur of green seemed to pulse even brighter. He felt like he was floating, and he wondered if this was what death felt like, as though his soul was leaving his body behind. He felt weightless, as though he no longer existed as a physical manifestation. He imagined this was what it meant when one’s spirit enters the lifestream after death.

In this moment he thought of Aerith, and how he might somehow be with her there, in some other form. He recalled their first meeting, when he fell through the ceiling of the derelict church in the slums of Midgar. He saw her face looking down at him, her smile like a radiant sun that warmed him from the inside out. He saw her hand reaching down for him, and he swore he could feel the heat of her skin on his face as her fingers stroked his cheek. He could feel the softness of the flowerbed on his back as he breathed in their sweet scent, and he noticed his lungs didn’t ache anymore. He felt free.

That’s when he opened his eyes, and noticed the winding streams of green light were all around him, holding him in a cocoon of living energy. His heart was beating hard in his chest as the light entered his wounds, filling him with a feeling of invigoration. The lifestream reoriented him as it set him down on his feet, releasing him tenderly. As the last tendril of light left his body, he was surprised to catch one last whiff of morning lilies.

Once again he was face to face with Sephiroth, who stood with a look of disappointment. Cloud walked towards him boldly, his face full of passionate purpose, bending quickly to pick up his sword before dashing at Sephiroth without so much as a word between them. This time, when their blades met it was Sephiroth who was sent staggering, surprised by the swell of power that his rival had found. Cloud’s eyes pulsed in rhythm with the lifestream as they burned through the man standing in shock before him.

“We will not let you destroy this world, Sephiroth,” Cloud spoke resolutely, unwavering.

“I see,” Sephiroth responded as he regained his composure, staring curiously at his renewed opponent. “So then this is no longer between you and me, Cloud? Have you finally realized what you are fighting for?”

“I’ve realized that this is more than just a score to settle,” said Cloud. “That this is more than simply giving you the warrior’s honor of dying by the sword. You have been manipulating me this whole time, but I now see through your hollow talk of honor.”

“Then shall we finish this?” Sephiroth asked with frustration, his face twisted in a scowl as he assumed his fighting stance, his blade brought back behind him as he leaned into a crouch. To his surprise, Cloud inverted his sword and planted it in the ground, its tip disappearing into darkness. He stood next to it with his arms at his side, leaving himself completely open to attack.

“Not this way,” Cloud replied.

“Then you have wasted your life twice over!” Sephiroth yelled as he rushed at the unguarded Cloud, who didn’t move even as the blade began descending in a sweeping arc from above. Only when the masamune was nearly upon him did he react, lifting both of his hands so quickly that they carried a current of air along with them, a swirl of lifestream trailing his fingers until his palms clapped together on the blade.

Sephiroth tried desperately to pull the sword free from Cloud’s grip, but it wouldn’t budge, as though it was trapped in a bed of stone. The blade then began to glow brightly, as though it were filling with an intense energy, until it eventually began to crack. The sword shattered at the midpoint, leaving Cloud with a small piece that he quickly flipped over and drove into Sephiroth’s chest.

The piece of blade continued to glow as Sephiroth stumbled backwards, gripping it in a futile attempt to rip it from his heart. Green tendrils of light began seeping out of the wound, enveloping his body in its energy, choking the life from him. Sephiroth eventually dropped to his knees as Cloud watched him struggle, staring down at him contemptuously.

“You see, I’m not just fighting for myself,” Cloud said. “I’m fighting for everyone. For Aerith, for Tifa and Barrett. You may think you have your honor, but I think you have confused honor for pride. You have fought for no one but yourself, and there is no honor in that.”

Sephiroth was seething as he heard the words, his body slowly deteriorating from the energy of the lifestream consuming his flesh. He said nothing in response as his body evaporated, his emerald eyes full of rage until at last he had become nothing but strands of light. They swirled and pulsed, drifting upwards until they became one with the lifestream.

Cloud glanced at the buster sword beside him, grazing his fingers upon the hilt before pulling it from the ground. He lifted the flat side of the massive blade to his face, studying the new marks that the battle had impressed upon the steel. He closed his eyes and placed his forehead upon it, let the sound of its vibrations sing to him one last time before securing it to his back as the lifestream lifted him out of the darkness, and into the light of the world above.

 

 


End file.
